


Turning Tides

by ThisisVenereVeritas



Category: Metalocalypse (Cartoon)
Genre: Anal Sex, Attempted Coercion, Bad Weather, Blow Jobs, Borderline Magnus, Bottom Magnus, Cuddling & Snuggling, Drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Intimidation, M/M, Making Out, Swearing, This is technically a pwp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:20:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26707384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisisVenereVeritas/pseuds/ThisisVenereVeritas
Summary: When the weather goes afoul, Magnus pushes and does what he thinks will save a ruined afternoon. Toki, on the other hand, does what he knows will help Magnus through his ordeal.
Relationships: Magnus Hammersmith/Toki Wartooth
Kudos: 13





	Turning Tides

The first sign begins shortly after noon, when they taste moisture in the air. It’s been cloudy all day, and Magnus made a joke about a storm brewing, but was insistent on showing Toki the weird vegan convenience store because it sold those tasty-smelling bath bombs that Toki loves, sugar free treats, and is located on a busy street with other delightful and distracting stores. “A big deal,” he calls it, and because he’s so self-assured, doesn’t hide behind vague remarks, and holds Toki’s hand and gives him encouraging tugs, Toki’s all for it. He loves being swept away, and Magnus when he’s at his most direct. The walls are down and he wants nothing more than to see what the older man is willing to offer. But then they tasted something wet and warm in the air, and not much after, experiences a fickle wind creeping up and torment them with its chill. Ten minutes later a shower erupts from the sky.

“I thinks we should head backs,” Toki says while they stand under a small tree. It provides minimal shelter, and the far off flashing of lightning hitting warns Toki it’ll only get worse from here. “We cans go get candies later, okay?”

Magnus stares at the corner, distraught. “It’s just a shower.”

“Yeah, but it wills get worse soons,” Toki complains, and tugs Magnus back into the direction of the car. Their eyes meet for a moment, and Toki worries Magnus catches his annoyance as the weather begins making a rapid turn for the worse. Water hits Toki’s face, and he blinks, and continues to pull Magnus from under the tree, back the way they came from.

Then the rain increases and hits faster than either could predict, pelting them both with icy water as they head to the car. Magnus is kind enough to hold the passenger door, but then there’s the sound of something crashing in the distance. Toki tells him it’s the thunder, and they need to leave now. Magnus remains weirdly stoic, eyes staring in the far distance, at enormous storm clouds gathering and heading in their direction.

“Magnus,” Toki calls again, and startles the older man to slam the passenger door shut.

From inside, Toki shivers and observes Magnus getting hit with the rain, looking out of sorts. The water starts to weigh down his hair, and only then does he gather himself. Toki watches Magnus race around the car, eager to get inside and away from whatever is haunting him, but nearly trips as he reaches for his door.

“Be carefuls,” Toki says, not hiding his concern as Magnus hurries inside the vehicle, drenched. “You almost slips.”

Magnus doesn’t react, and fumbles to fit his keys into the ignition. A few seconds of observation yields what Toki guesses is fear, but nothing so intense that he’s worried. Lots of people dislike lightning and thunder, he thinks. 

The rain turns into a heavy downpour, with street drains filling up with water, and still rising. Pieces of trash cruise the rapid currents. Toki stares out a window and gives Magnus the space he needs to either bottle up his nerves, or calm down. One song later, and Magnus starts talking about how the rain ruined everything.

“Should’ve parked closer,” Magnus comments under his breath during a break between songs.

“Okays, but we didn’ts. So, we goes another day,” Toki replies, hoping it makes things better. Magnus lowers his head, grips the wheel tighter, eyes fixing on the road to avoid any potential disapproving looks from the younger man.

They stop at an intersection, and even though the radio is blasting, Magnus’s voice pushes through the keyboards and synth, and complains. “Had a whole fucking day planned out.”

Toki lurches forward, hoping that Magnus catches him in his peripheral. “We can still has lots of funs,” he states, hair swaying as Magnus lifts a foot of the brake. 

Magnus makes a slight face as they turn. There’s a heavy sloshy sensation underneath them, and Toki puts two and two together, gathering the evidence before him as Magnus’ shoulders start to tense, frown and wrinkles deepening with that perpetual sense of failure he gets when things don’t go quite his way.

“We should watch that what-hims-face Tarantulatino film I keeps telling you to see,” Toki blurts out, effectively changing the subject before Magnus has the chance of turning the blame towards himself. “Them ones with the Nazi bads guy. He ams so cool.”

It’s not the greatest attempt to distract, but it works because Magnus openly scoffs at the idea.

“The last good film that foot-licker made was back in ninety-seven,” he says, smiling wickedly and unintentionally calming Toki in the process. His hold on the wheel continues to ease while Toki defends his favorite films, genres, all while making the occasional inappropriate Nazi joke, snickering and chuckling and convincing the other that their film is the better of the tonight’s newly appointed double feature.

Their journey back home ends with a flood. They park, but it takes a short discussion, some planning as to who will be the one to unlock the door, the other who will locate and turn on the heater, before they both agree to head in. When Magnus turns off the engine, there’s thunder again. Far away. It still takes Magnus a few seconds to remove the key from the ignition and brave the storm.

Once inside, Toki races to the bedroom and grabs the heater and, shivering wildly, rushes back into the living room and turns it on to the maximum without any regard to Magnus’ concern, letting him know in a soft voice that he’ll pay for next month’s bill. Magnus snorts, finding the remark funny enough to shrug it off. Again, Toki’s astonished how well Magnus is taking this. Bad weather and ruined plans had Toki under suspicion Magnus was upset. Instead, Magnus huddles by him, long fingers outstretched and seizing up once they register the blasting heat. 

The calm doesn’t last. A minute passes, and Magnus ceases to shiver as much, and he mentions how _fucking_ disrespectful it is to rain on a god, only to have Toki discount the remark and explain he has little control over such things. Magnus proceeds to complain though, and while Toki wants nothing to do with it, offers Magnus a quiet ear to send his grievances.

“They had a bunch of weird agave nectar crap,” Magnus explains through chattering teeth. “A whole bunch of sweets and drinks that had zero sugar in it. Nada, dude. You would have liked it.”

“You ams sweet,” Toki sputters as he falls into a squat, balling up and retaining as much body heat as he can. 

“ _Don’t_ say that.” Magnus barks the words. It almost makes Toki shoot up, but he keeps himself glued to the glowing red wires while Magnus withdraws, quietly apologizing at his poor response, and tries to save himself from further ruining the moment. “I didn’t do anything yet. I didn’t give you anything. I just–”

“You tries your best,” Toki mutters.

“Didn’t even do that right!” Like before, each word comes out rough and antagonizing. Toki gets that it’s not directed at him, but the sentence hits sharp, clawing at him with pent-up negativity. “We should’ve left earlier. I should’ve gone to the bank yesterday. Wasted so much time driving around. I need to _fucking_ learn to plan better, man. I need to get my shit together. I gotta–”

Tired of listening, Toki stands up, and sides steps closer to Magnus, bouncing his hip against the older man’s, and although the contact is brief, it shuts Magnus up. Toki smiles at him, brown iris fixing and shaking and welling with anger that wants to burst, but Magnus doesn’t say a word, and just gives a rigid nod.

A few seconds pass. There’s a wonderful moment where Magnus initiates a shoulder bump, and even though they’re soaked, the physical exchange tells Toki that Magnus is there, unjumbling. Magnus gets chatty again, and talks about buying another heater. He says he wants to get Toki something nice. Toki suggests tea, but Magnus gets loud and says something that costs money. Tea is free. It’s just hot water with leaves. Magnus catches Toki frowning at him, and after that goes silent again. The second bump is less accidental, _longer_ , and this time Magnus mentions that Toki looks nice with drenched hair, and it cheers him up. He looks cute when he shivers, Magnus adds, watching Toki struggle a small smile through chattering teeth. There’s a final nudge from Magnus before he takes another step forward, blocking some of the rays. Rude, Toki thinks. Toki can’t tear his eyes off how close Magnus is to the small heater, how much he looks like he wants to drop to the floor and sit next to it. Maybe that’s the plan, but then Magnus lifts a leg, yanks off a boot, then another, and right as Toki starts to notice how soaked his own toes are, catches Magnus looking at him, eyes filled with sudden determination. 

Freezing, Toki observes, exhaling shivers, and eyes glued to the spectacle as Magnus tries to free himself from his weighted jacket. It’s a battle that earns a few grunts, an annoyed scowl and half-spoken swears that result in Toki breaking from his hunched form to help remove the jacket from each arm. Amid their struggle, his face, that tip of the nose, brushes into drenched curls, and although it happens so fast, Toki inhales and gets a taste of something humid, warm and distinctly Magnus. His pants are soaked, but when Toki pulls away, jacket in hand and hearing Magnus thanking him before attacking his shirt, he feels the beginnings of a low ember, a comforting warmth inside of him.

Magnus lifts his shirt, exposing his flexible abdomen, his tawny, concave fixture as he continues to remove his top over his face. Toki blinks, fixating on a different aspect for every second that passes, drinking it all in. Magnus drops the shirt with the jacket, then grabs the soppy, tangled mess that is his hair. Head leaning on the side, Magnus gives his hair a squeeze, wringing as much moisture as he can with his hand. Heavy droplets of lukewarm water hit the floor. Toki hears the plopping sound and catches a stream flowing down Magnus’ neck, over his shoulder and downward, and flushes once his eyes search and discover the bend of Magnus’ back, the curvature of his spine, and the glossy shine of his skin. Magnus finishes and straightens up, letting his hair drop and Toki can’t shake off the feeling he gets when he sees how Magnus’ hair clings to his face, top still wet and leaving thin streams that weren’t too unlike tears.

Magnus snickers as he works to undo the strap of his belt. “Like what you see?”

“Huh?” Toki’s face radiates pink, and he takes a nervous step away as Magnus scoffs at him for trying to feign innocence. He’s got to attend to his own clothes. There’s a small knot begging for attention, and Toki’s head spins with solutions because as nice as Magnus looks, all of this feels like it’s coming out of nowhere.

Magnus resumes stripping by the heater, and is naked when he suggests a smoke. Toki thinks it’s intentional. The small heater is barely enough to make the small space around them tolerable. Its size is better suited for the bedroom. Toki pushes against the opening of his pants when Magnus walks off, buck naked and still leaving behind tiny droplets of warm water behind him as he edges closer to the window at the far end of the living room.

This is intentional. The air in the room is so cold, no one in their right mind would wander about with no clothes in this weather. This can’t be anything but a game. An invitation. Magnus wants him to make a move. _Right_ _now_ , though? Or maybe is it Magnus making a power move? Or maybe Toki was looking too deep, was just easily excitable, and Magnus just wanted out of heavy, drenched clothes? 

Magnus grabs his lighter and cracks the window open, shuddering when icy wind seeps through. From a distance, Toki can barely see the rise of goosebumps, muscles seeping and contracting with each shiver as Magnus reaches for a cigarette. Toki kicks off his boots and socks, then leaves and grabs a towel from the bathroom, and then hands it to Magnus, who is nursing half of what will be his one and only cigarette for the day. The towel is for him to dry his roots, and maybe cover himself so he doesn’t catch a cold, but once Magnus has it in his hand, snuffs the cigarette with his other it in favor of drying Toki’s hair, complimenting how well it did in this weather in comparison to his own. Toki looks good wet. He looks in general. A pale, _lovely_ thing. Quite the opposite of himself. Toki silently refutes each remark, but doesn’t think to argue about who looks best while soaked and shivering. If he says something, Magnus will only double-down. Toki keeps his eyes low, squinting at their bare feet and the puddles forming around them, riding up Magnus’ legs and getting pulled in by his lowering voice, and enjoying the large, rough hands that massage and dry his scalp.

Magnus radiates body heat, searing the bits of bare skin Toki has against his. Toki’s painfully aware of how exposed Magnus is, how he is less than an arm’s length away, but something is off and he isn’t quite there yet–not in the mood to grab Magnus’s waist and pull him into a covered kiss. A light voice in his head says a hug. A cuddle. It’s so pathetically different the energy Magnus emits. 

How things turn so quickly. His Magnus proves to still be so unpredictable.

Once Magnus is done, he lets the towel drop, slides his arms over Toki’s shoulders, coming close, eyes narrowing until he’s practically glaring at Toki. They land on Toki’s parting lips, and even though they’re far from the heater, Toki feels uncomfortably warm. His wet clothes are too snug, and his hair holds in all the heat. Magnus is _still_ naked, and although Toki’s keeping his eyes on those thinning lips, ends lifting into an unbearable smirk, he’s thinking about the droplets of water that still cling to Magnus’ chest hairs, water dripping down his peppered goatee, the shine of his moist legs, and the dark curls that spring from his lower abdomen, trailing down and tempting, beckoning Toki closer.

Magnus snaps a sly, enticing grin. “You’re shivering.”

There’s hunger in that voice. It’s the same wanton need plaguing Toki, but at a vastly greater amount. The message is clear and the game Magnus wants to play is in contrast with his, but at least Toki knows he’s in a good mood. Magnus doesn’t say what he wants outright, but Toki has finally reached the point where his body language openly speaks to him. It’s just a matter of interpretation. Magnus stares at him when he wants attention, teases and provides subtle contact that he controls to keep from sounding desperate, or needy. 

But this amount of teasing tells a different story. Magnus looks at him like he wants to be torn apart, wants Toki to let go of all restraint and have his way with him, but there’s something off about the weight of his arms, the turn of his head, and the flutter of his dark, radiant eye.

“You cold, buddy?” Hot breath splashes across Toki, and Magnus inhales through his nose, and Toki hears the sound, sees the older man’s chest come to a slow rise, and knows he’s about to enter quite the predicament.

“A littles,” he answers, feeling the ends of his fingers shake when Magnus pushes more of his weight on top of his shoulders.

“How about we get you changed out of all that?” Magnus replies, and takes abundant glee when Toki frowns a little at the question. His arms slide off Toki’s shoulder, running down his side and racking up a trail of shivers as Magnus brings his hands to the bottom of Toki’s drenched shirt.

Toki squirms when he feels warm fingertips trespass. “Sounds goods,” he says, watching imposing brown and blurry irises fix on his anxious smile.

Magnus’ hand tugs the shirt. “Lift your arms,” he says in a low voice.

“What?” Toki asks, face lowering as the second hand begins to rub his lower back. It feels nice. The heat from his hand seeps into his skin, into tense muscles. It’s so cold in the kitchen, where the air is mostly still, save for the opened window. The heater is a million miles away, and the only thing keeping him from freezing is Magnus.

“Well, otherwise you can’t take the shirt off,” Magnus replies coolly.

Toki blushes when he feels the hand sweep away, now grabbing the other side of his shirt. “Oh, rights,” he answers, breaking into a grin and pretending to share the same humor as Magnus when he laughs. Magnus starts to lift the shirt, and Toki harbors a feeling that there is still something not quite right. That moment arrives, but is smothered when Magnus’s shadow covers him, one eye aglow and so intimidating and alluring it coats Toki’s rationale with sticky, tingling desire.

Magnus asks again to raise his arms, and that’s what Toki does. Toki brings each one up, eyes shutting once the drenched veil is raised, and he feels cold air surround him, engulfing his form and sending a raging shudder down his stomach. The knot just below his stomach turns, dwindling at the cold, but new embers replace it once the tip of a tongue startles him, lapping his right nipple and causing Toki to gasp and jerk in place. The strip halts, and Toki can’t see beyond the shirt, but feels Magnus draw forward, lips encircling around him, pursing wet, warm and soft.

“Magnus!” Toki whines right as Magnus begins to suck. The same hands that lifted his shirt drop to Toki’s exposed chest, holding him into place as Magnus continues to taunt and tease him by placing the hard bud between his teeth, grazing it with each suckle. That shocking sensation charges up Toki’s chest, into his heart, and pours downward into his pants. The urge and ache fills the already constricting space in his pants, and it’s made worse once Magnus registers Toki’s original complaint, stops what he’s doing, and roughly yanks the shirt off from Toki with a new sense of purpose.

Cold air rushes to meet Toki’s heated face, but there’s little time for him to react. He’s pushed against the wall, with Magnus colliding soon after, crushing his lips roughly against Toki’s in a hot, messy kiss. Toki barely has time to think about it, but the impulses make up for his bewilderment. His hands instinctively search for that connection, and squeeze the older man’s arms with a heightened grip. Coarse hairs rub against his face. Toki whines again, this time into Magnus’ mouth. It’s welcomed with a guttural noise that kills any space remaining in Toki’s pants, bringing an end to that warm tingle and replacing it with pure longing. Magnus fights through Toki’s grip, frees an arm and purposely rests his palm on top of Toki’s tented pants, pushing and rubbing the afflicted area and earning yet another satisfying moan into his mouth.

Magnus parts his mouth further, drags Toki’s bottom lip with his teeth and gives it a mild nip. The deepening kiss pushes Toki off the edge, and he succumbs, ending his grip on Magnus so that he can wrap his arms around the man’s shoulders.

Toki’s head starts to spin. His body shakes at the opportunity, but his brain is still trying to catch up and make sense of the sudden change of pace. Magnus bites his lip again, flicks his tongue into Toki’s mouth. Moaning, Toki tries telling himself it’s alright that he’s still out of it. It happens all the time. He’s convinced he will catch up to Magnus any moment. He’s already so frustrated and hungry, eager for that intimacy, that human attachment, and Magnus is so good at kissing him, touching him and doing things that not even the fangirls dare to promise.

With these thoughts consuming him, Toki lets Magnus take control, face exploding with heat when Magnus begins to work his pants, freeing the button from its hold and making such quick work of the zipper. Toki’s eyelids flutter as he’s met with two warm hands rubbing him through damp boxer briefs, coating him with a wondrous feeling. Toki stiffens, hips shaking as warmth pushes through the fabric, seeping into him. The pressure rubbing his erection shifts, and a hand lowers, sneaking into the fold.

Magnus’ lips part from Toki’s. “Spread your legs.”

Toki does so without complaint. The hands slip further, and Toki feels that more intense skin-to-skin contact. Fingers touching him, fondling his dick and guiding it out of its prison, sending wonderful chills for each gentle tug, the hot slip of his foreskin as it's pulled over the head. Toki’s mouth parts further. Magnus dips down and closes the gape, tasting a moan once he has Toki locked back into place. Through the haze, Toki realizes Magnus is doing all the hard work while his own pleasure is left unaccounted for. Thinking it wrong to enjoy all the fun, Toki tries to return the favor. He straddles the hip, has his hand slide down a few inches, then attempts to locate the man’s neglected organ. A breeze of cold air rushes into the kitchen. Magnus shudders above and deepens the kiss, and Toki bumps his arm against Magnus’. Through their disorganized movement, Toki manages to find the smooth formation of Magnus’ inner thigh, and he rides up the sensitive flesh, feeling it twitch and shiver under his touch, only to discover how soft Magnus still is compared to him. Toki wants to look down, to see if this is right, but when he does, Magnus pushes him deeper into a corner, acting like he has everything under control. 

Why hasn’t his body caught up? Toki thinks it’s the cold, but when he tries reaching again, is again met with controlled distance. Magnus kisses his neck, telling him not to worry about a thing. Impossible, how could he not be? Toki’s brain signals for danger, but he feels a rushed pulse, Magnus’ hand rubbing and working his shaft, and Toki’s almost to the point where he needs to tell Magnus to slow down, and no more touching until they’re both caught up, when the thunder arrives.

Magnus twitches at the sound, but Toki finds it more intimidating than he’s prepared for. He jumps, accidently bumping and pushing Magnus away in the process. Magnus pulls back, spits out a swear about how loud the thunder was, how close it's gotten and it makes no sense they could hear as well as they did. The swears are excessive, and Magnus erratic swaying brings about an old feeling of unease.

“The windows ims opens,” Toki points out. He expects Magnus to shut it right away, jump right back into the make-out session before dragging them into the bedroom, but instead sees his eyes glower and fill with hate.

“Of _fucking_ course,” Magnus harshly remarks, then slams the window shut. The sound wracks through the kitchen, startling Toki in the process. “Shit, dude. I can’t get anything fucking right today,” Magnus says, and Toki’s alarmed by how on edge each word comes out. He sounds mad, but not the normal kind. It’s a sad, miserable anger. It’s a cross between Pickles after spending a long day with his family, and Rockso whenever it hits him that he wasted his money on bootleg crack. It’s not anger, but self-loathing. That god-awful voice that insisted he was the problem.

And then Magnus returns to him, movement stiff, but the passion still there, whether it’s forced, or if Toki wants it or not. He grabs Toki roughly, practically lifting him up to his toes. Magnus cups Toki’s chin with his other hand, raising Toki’s head up to meet his, and when Toki sees his reflection in Magnus’ good eyes, can officially diagnose the issue at hand.

It wasn’t the thunder, or the lack of bath bombs, but it all added up to Magnus feeling insecure, a failure at achieving the day’s goals. Toki doesn’t get why, either, because it’s not like they haven’t dealt with worse before, and although they didn’t get any candy, any shopping or promises fulfilled, it isn’t like it’s worth forcing a mood. Does Magnus really think sex will save the day? Is he really, _truly_ risking taking these many steps backwards just to feel better about himself? Will this even make him feel better? The questions only make Toki feel worse, and he wants nothing more to do with each pestering thought, and only wants Magnus to tell him he’s upset. 

Instead, Magnus kisses him. Their eyes close, and as Magnus tries to return to play with his erection, Toki grabs his hands, bringing them up to his waist, and guides him to hold and cradle him through the kiss. It buys time.

Toki’s not sure when the problem began, but once he recognizes that it’s happening, he can piece why everything feels so rushed, so out of sorts. This needs to deescalate, before Magnus freaks out because he can’t get it up, because he’s not ready, because his nerves are racing at a startling speed, but his mind is still locked on the stupid weather and disappointing Toki. 

And Toki doesn’t want Magnus to add another failure to his list.

Toki breaks the kiss. “Toki ams cold.” He says it with a strained voice, a tightened throat that makes each word sound higher-pitched, childish and helpless.

“Still cold?” Magnus whispers in Toki’s neck.

“Mhmm,” Toki whined. He rubs Magnus’s sides. “Can you gets a blanket?” That buys a few seconds, but not enough to change the subject, or redirect the obsession to something less physical so that when Magnus crashes, he doesn’t burn.

“Yeah, a blanket.” Magnus breaks each word. “Go to the couch, and I’ll get you a blanket.” He punches each word just as it leaves his lips, like it’s getting in the way of what he wants. 

Toki nods back in agreement. Thankfully, the concern for his wellbeing trumps whatever that voice is trying to convince Magnus to do.

“You gonna finish undressing?” Magnus asks as he peels himself off from Toki. His fingers dig into Toki’s thighs, like gnarled, hungry roots. 

“Hmm? Gets a blanket big enough for us.” Toki’s pushes out a smile draws Magnus forward, irises shaking and drinking in the words and hidden promises, the suggestive smirk that tells him he’d doing a great job, he just needs to try a little harder. “Grabs your wet clothes…don’t slips again, okays?”

The key is to act normal, and let Magnus pick up on how fast-paced he’s thinking, functioning. There’s no point in bringing up mistakes that don’t hurt anyone, and no reason to stretch things out by being overly concerned. Those walls that Magnus surrounds himself with will only serve to isolate him, or suffocate him in his own dreary thoughts about why Toki is upset (he isn’t!) or why things didn’t go his way (it’s the weather, it happens). Toki smiles and lets Magnus figure out on his own why he’s so hung up over clothes as he picks up his own, shivers when he remembers where he is and what he lacks, and disappears into the bedroom to fish a decent sized blanket from the bed.

Alone, Toki tucks himself back in, only then to recoil at the encompassing texture of his cold, wet pants. He picks up the heater–winces when the metal frame smacks his bare legs–and takes it with him to the couch. It’s so damn small right now, but the heat it provides reassures Toki that things will be ok, and soon Magnus will arrive with a blanket. It’s a dangerous move, but he kicks off his pants. He’s convinced the blanket, and whatever nonsense he can pull from his head, will somehow save the day. 

Once free, Toki closes his eyes, giving way to a fun fantasy of them snuggled together, complaining over who has the most blanket to themselves before cramming more junk food into their mouths. They’ll laugh and Magnus will poke fun at Toki for enjoying a silly, fictional war film, but it will still be worth it when Magnus lowers his guard and finally smiles, admits to having a good time. 

With such pleasantries now filling his mind, Toki returns to that instant where Magnus gazed at him with such a harsh, intimidating stare. It’s over now, and Toki’s admittedly relieved, but the memory of his touch remains. Sudden, sharp, and undeniably forced. A pity Magnus put himself through that. Despite it all, Toki still wants to hear Magnus call out his name, watch his composure deteriorate over his touch and deepening stare, topple over affection he’s never quite prepared for, and crumble against love he’s still a little scared to get acquainted with. 

Toki knows it’s going to be a bit before any of it happens. There needs to be another distraction before that, or self-realization. Magnus equates sex with saving the day, but Toki wants Magnus smiling and asking for favors, sharing what’s on his mind, and eventually telling Toki what he desires out of this moment. Doesn’t matter if it’s just sex, or validation. A good cry. A bit of yelling. Toki just needs to feel it, hear it. 

Toki reclines into the sofa, sighing as he sets his goal for an hour, or maybe until they reach the end of _Inglourious Basterds_ , and when he hears Magnus’s bare feet hitting the floor, peeks his head up and welcomes him with beaming eyes, luring him closer to that state of calm.

* * *

Once he knows what to look for, it gets incredibly easy to spot the signs piling up. Magnus tries and succeeds at removing Toki’s undergarments, but that’s when Toki pleads for the blanket. They wrap themselves up, and Magnus grabs Toki and starts kissing his neck. Each one is rushed, but Toki enjoys the sprinkles of affection hidden beneath each one and waits a minute, gets a little lost in the movements, their legs twisting and bodies in search of additional friction, then makes a complaint about wanting something to drink once Magnus starts getting a little too rough.

“What?” Magnus asks, forgoing the comfort he’s collected in their tangled mass, and lifts from Toki with a sharp jerk. “You’re thirsty?”

He sounds incredulous, but not unwilling to listen, so Toki makes another attempt. “You wants to splits a drink?”

“Are you serious?” he sounds offended.

“Just a little drink,” Toki replies, keeping a straight face. “Maybe it makes things more interesting alongs the way?”

“Oh, _that_ drink.” Magnus’ does a complete one-eighty. “ _Yeah_ , I think I’ll get us something to drink.”

Toki cowers against the cold air assaulting his upper chest and shoulders. The second Magnus is free from the blanket, he twists, coils into a tight burrito and rests on his stomach. Magnus stares down at him with a semi-amused look, but there’s still severity in that brown iris that leaves Toki apprehensive.

He’s made quite a few demands already, but dares to add another. “And noodles?”

“What are you on about?” Magnus asks, brow furrowing at the question.

“Makes noodles for us to eats when we watches the movie,” Toki replies, producing a cute little pout while Magnus stares, contemplating over the list of tasks being unloaded onto him.

“Now there’s a movie?”

“Ams we not Netflix and chillings?” Toki asks, wriggling out of his warm burrito to bring his arms out. He rests each one on the couch, and places his head on his palms, smiling freely and letting his form act as a gentle anchor to drag Magnus down. The promise of sex is still up in the air, not out of reach. It just requires some additional work, completing tasks and warming Toki up– _at least_ , that’s the impression.

“Look at you, trying to build a mood,” Magnus says, cracking into a dry chuckle, then drops his head to kiss Toki on the forehead. It’s gentler, softer– _relieved_ , maybe?– and so quick Toki misses it once it’s gone. “Alright, booze and noodles. Go put on your damn Tarantino film, and I’ll try not to point out all the obvious, atrocious faults. “Try” being a huge key word here.”

Toki lifts his head up. “Okays,” he says, pushing his lips out, and inviting Magnus to provide another kiss. Magnus’ lips push against his, somewhat forcefully, but disappear with a tender withdrawal. 

What a relief it is to hear that word, even if it’s in relation to the movie they’re about to watch. That’s all Toki ever really wants from Magnus, to try. He hopes he’ll figure it out sooner, rather than later, than none of this is his fault, so they can move on and cuddle and have a wonderful rest of the day.

Magnus grands two beers from the fridge, races back to the living room before making circles around the heater, and heads back into the kitchen. It’s a charming performance, but once he’s gone Toki decides to leave his comforting sanctuary, and returns to the bedroom. A few minutes of searching yields a pair of sweatpants, and some worn pajama bottoms. He puts on the latter, then rushes out of the bedroom, hallway, then straight into the kitchen. 

He finds Magnus standing over a pot filled with water. “Hey,” Toki whispers before placing an arm around him. “I gots you somethings.” He lifts the sweatpants and dangles them in the air. “So you don’ts get colds,” he says, stopping Magnus from asking about the sudden change, the introduction of clothing, and whether this all tied with him screwing up yet another thing. “Puts them on, okays? Otherwise you’ll gets sick from the colds.”

“I ain’t that weak,” Magnus remarks, but snatches up the sweatpants anyways. He unfolds them, and grimaces when it comes undone. “Couldn’t find anything older and rattier?” he asks sarcastically.

“I wants you to be warms.”

Magnus shakes his head. “I was warm in the blanket.”

“And now _we’ll_ be warms out of the blankets,” Toki comments, leaning and rubbing the tip of his cool nose against Magnus’ neck. “Puts it on. You can takes it off laters, after we eats.”

Magnus still grimaces as he holds the sweatpants up, then glances at Toki. “You’re lucky you’re fucking cute.”

Toki snickers. “Oh, Toki gets to tops now?”

That quiets Magnus. He hides his face behind his damp hair, and rudely shoves each leg into each sleeve, frown and blush extending while Toki leans close to the stove, serenading in the heat and tickled at Magnus’ response.

Toki returns to the couch and wraps himself up in the blanket. Thankfully, it retains some of the collective heat he and Magnus produced minutes before. Toki snuggles in the center of the couch, letting the warm fabric soothe him before snatching the remote from the coffee table. He turns on the television, switches from cable to the internet, and locates his desired film.

 _Snuggles with Magnus, then maybes gets a littles drunk_ , Toki thinks with a small smile. Even if Magnus doesn’t want to admit he is a little upset, Toki guesses he can wriggle a confession out once Magnus calms down some more. 

Magnus soon arrives with two bowls of piping hot instant noodles loaded with sodium and other glorious unnatural flavors. Toki welcomes his offering with open arms, slurping some before casting it to his side, and scoops Magnus up in the blanket once he’s low enough. Toki shares copious amounts of heat in the forms of a hug. His face rubbing into the man’s neck and shoulder, and he sends a multitude of thanks and praises that serve to ease, filled with enough validation that he’s sure Magnus doesn’t mind the clothes and beer and extended wait.

Once the movie begins, Magnus goes quiet. He observes the scene while Toki rests his head on top of Magnus’ arm, pointing with his fork at the obvious happenings, smiling when the music turns and the guns go off. Magnus raises a brow when the heroine manages to escape the predicament, and Toki expects him to comment about the impossibility of such a scenario, but when she runs off, and the villain congratulates her for her impeccable will to survive, merely sighs through his nose while Toki slurps noodles, watching, waiting, and smiling through chews.

“Sees, he ams cool, no?”

“He let her get away,” Magnus mutters before nursing his beer. He looks like he wants to say more, critique the entire situation and break down why it doesn’t make sense for a Nazi to let one of his victims flee the scene, but when Toki rubs his cheek against his arm, scooting closer and readjusting the blanket to cover their legs, only asks if Toki’s feeling alright.

“Whats do yous mean?” Toki asks, playfully reaching and covering Magnus’ shoulder. “I ams having funs.”

Magnus doesn’t add on to his remark, only puts his beer down to grab his bowl. He picks at his noodles with his fork, suspicious of his own concoction, but after the Basterds are introduced, starts nibbling at his meal. The booming outside becomes less frequent, and sounds farther away, but Toki turns up the volume anyways because the gory stuff is just around the corner, and Magnus likes copious amounts of blood with his violence.

“Whats do you thinks?”

Magnus plays with his food. “It’s not bad.”

Toki squeezesMagnus’ arm, feeling the skin underneath tremble under him as he probes further. “Not bads? They ems scalping Nazis and bashing their heads in with bats.”

“Yeah,” Magnus says, then snickers a little when he thinks about it. “I guess it’s pretty funny.”

Toki smiles, wriggles his arm behind Magnus so he can hold him. “Sees? Tolds you.”

Magnus flinches at the intimacy, but doesn’t reject it. His face sinks a little, and Toki can surmise that it’s guilt, or those angry thoughts that still want to pretend everything was ruined the moment it started to rain, so Toki rests his head back on Magnus, sighing light with an exhale, letting that purr reverberate up the man’s arm before muttering a soft “this ams nice.”

The plot unfolds and it gets quiet. Toki watches Magnus rolls his eyes whenever the screen goes black to reveal a new chapter, but eats up the scene with the strudel because–and Toki doesn’t say anything out loud because he doesn’t want to ruin the moment–it’s spooky and so good, and even though it’s scary, pulls at the nerves, you gotta keep watching to see what happens. He lays more of his weight on top of Magnus, who no longer looks so tense, so excitable, but is enjoying the movie as much as he can, or allows himself too. Toki rests a hand on the Magnus leg, doesn’t feel anything happen when he does, and it’s a little disappointing to those tiny embers that remain flickering in his heart, but Toki would rather have Magnus composed than under pressure.

“Hey, uhm?” Magnus asks in the middle of the bar scene. This is after a period of silence, of them watching the movie together, and Toki offering the occasional pull, the blow of air against fluffing and unruly curls, his hand working and breaking apart stiff muscles between action scenes and plot dumps.

Toki peers up. “Yeah?”

Magnus tilts his head. “Nothing. Thought I heard something,” he says, then returns to the realm of silence.

The guns go off, and Toki keeps his eyes on the screen, trying not to let the silence get to him, focusing instead on the sounds of screams and the soft feel of cotton and Magnus on his bare skin. 

Magnus drops his head because he’s ready to try again. “Hey, Toki.”

He’s already off to a great start. Toki remains composed, or as calm as he can manage, and hopes it rubs off Magnus. “Mhm?”

“Thanks,” Magnus mutters. He sounds ashamed, and if Toki didn’t care, would have snuffed such a response, because as far as he is concerned, it’s not worth the trouble. Magnus isn’t in trouble. But Toki keeps still, pretending not to grasp the situation, letting Magnus take complete control when it counts the most. “That’s… For not…”

Toki rubs Magnus’ leg again, slower, fingertips lingering under the end of each slide, providing the comfort Magnus needs to get it out. 

“Thanks for not getting upset,” Magnus says, speaking over the actors. He smiles, but Toki can see past its ruse. “I know I was acting weird.” He starts to pale, almost sick of himself. “I’m being fucking weird again. That shit I did back there? Fuck, I’m off the–”

“It’s okays,” Toki says, moving some hair away as he rises, closing the gap between them.

Magnus sinks. “No, it’s _not_ ,” he says harshly, but then folds under his own words when he turns and sees Toki staring at him. Magnus shakes his head again, and after a quick exhale, relaxes. “It’s the fact that I still can’t get it right when I want it to.”

“It ims just bad weathers,” Toki says, keeping his voice levelled. “It ams out of your controls.”

Magnus leans to the side. Toki topples as Magnus separates from him, resting an elbow on the sofa’s arm, turning his head and hiding away before ultimately burying his face into his arms. “Everything is out of my _damn_ control.”

“Not trues,” Toki says with a slight frown. “You can controls what you does after you gets bad news.” Magnus shirk at the words, burning with a truth he still has difficulty accepting. Toki scooches closer, ignoring Magnus tensing at his approach. Toki places a hand on the man’s back, feeling the hot skin shudder under his cooler palm. “You has completes control of your actions, Magnus. We talks about this before, _remembers_?”

To his relief, Magnus nods. Still avoiding Toki, he says, “I’m sorry if I made you feel weird. I made you feel weird. I...I just wanted to give you something nice.”

The apology hits just where it needs to, and Toki can barely retain himself when he hears it. He wants to jump on top of Magnus, but adjusts his hand further, gripping him by the shoulder and giving the man a tug.

“You _ams_ nice,” Toki says, beckoning Magnus up with another pull. “I don’t needs you to try and impress Toki. Don’t makes yourskelves feels uncomfortable because you thinks you have to proves me somethings, okay?” He’s gentle with each word, careful because he keeps having to say “you,” and he doesn’t want Magnus to think he’s upset at him, and he doesn’t bring up the sex, because even though it’s what Magnus is focused on, is obsessed and beating himself over with, Toki sees it as something so miniscule compared to Magnus putting himself in any unpredictable situation because he felt defeated, cornered.

Toki tries for a third time to get Magnus up on his own, but when it fails, he adjusts, slipping his arms around the man’s waist and, after a short complaint from Magnus, pulls him into a stiff embrace. Magnus jolts, and Toki pushes his face into the man’s bare back, embracing him. A second later, Magnus reclines, and when Toki lets go, Magnus falls into his seat, visibly upset, but willing to at least meet Toki’s stare with his own.

“I don’t wants you to do things because you feels you has to. You needs to talk when you thinks you ams out of controls, even if it ims not your head. Magnus, do you understands?” Toki asks, lifting Magnus’ face up with his hands. “Cans you promise?”

His irises shake a little before hiding behind shut eyelids, and Magnus nods, not saying anything, curling his lips inward and trying to look away, but Toki’s grip on him is firm. He opens his eyes right as the Basterds devise their final solution. There’s laughter in the background right as Magnus says “yes,” and apologizes again for being “such an–” but Toki cuts him off with a kiss before he has time to finish insulting himself further. 

Toki pushes himself on top of Magnus, and the blanket covering him slides off, half of mass tumbling down the sofa as Toki brings a hand to cup Magnus’ cheek, and the other runs through the man’s tangled hair. Toki’s eyes flutter shut as Magnus wraps an arm under his, resting it on his back and dragging Toki further until his weight is right on top of him. The cushions groan as the two lay together, lips brushing on top of the other, gentle breaths tickling the other’s face, and quiet stares sending messages of affection that couldn’t be spoken in words. Toki brings his kisses upwards, placing one on Magnus’ cheek, in the curve between his eye and the bridge of his nose, the lines that decorate his forehead.

Toki buries his nose into Magnus’ damp hair, breathing his scent and parting his lips, when he hears Magnus mutter underneath him, “I’m sorry.”

“S’okay.” 

“Really. I mean it. I just want to feel like I did something right, on my own.”

With a tired sigh, Toki lowers, resting his face in the crook of Magnus’ neck. “Thanks you for rememberins Toki likes bath bombs what smells like fruits and desserts,” he says, then drops a kiss on strained muscles. A pulse beats underneath his pursed lips, and the weight of Magnus’ second hand around his frame tells him he’s on the right track. Toki brings his face up, nipping the bottom lobe, and earning a satisfying jerk in response. “Thanks for thinking abouts me and my diabetes,” he adds, feeling Magnus’ heart begin to tremble, muscles stiffen and legs shift and try to make space for Toki’s commanding form.

He returns to the neck, just below the jaw, and breathes in that lovely scent of rain and building adrenaline. Like before, it wakes something in Toki, and with one of Magnus’ legs dropping off the sofa to make for some space, the heat between them more than making up for the loss of half a blanket, Toki detects a change, that right moment where things fall perfectly into place.

“Thanks for not saying anythings mean abouts the movie.”

“You can stop now, Toki,” he hears Magnus say. His voice stutters, like it’s almost too much. It likely is, and Toki continues to hold Magnus, squeezing him and enjoying the rub of their chests, hearts racing with a new sense of longing, and so hot they don’t need the blanket anymore.

“Okays,” Toki concedes, and for a few minutes it’s just them watching a sabotage unfold. Magnus pets his lower back, always coming close, but never lingering too long on the seam of the pajamas. If it’s a tease, it’s the subtlest one yet, and this time Toki decides to go for the bait. “Magnus?”

“What?” Magnus asks tiredly, calmly.

Toki lifts himself up, capturing Magnus’ content, and feeling his emotions swell as he smiles at the man. “I loves you.”

Magnus’ expression hardens momentarily, but he brings his hand up to Toki, fingers lacing through dark brown locks, and he softens just enough before replying back, “I love you, too, Toki.”

Toki waits a moment. “I feels betters now,” he says, and turns his stare towards the screen. “How abouts yous?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Without looking away, Toki asks, “ _Guess_?”

Besides him, Magnus snorts. “Alright, man. I’m good.”

With the denouement having passed, Toki remains nestled on top of Magnus, enjoying the hands feeling up and massaging him. It takes Magnus telling Toki his movie is about to end, when he finally sits back up, snatches the remote and tells Magnus to pay attention to the crazy shit that’s about to unfold. Magnus retorts and claims that, despite the pretty, little distraction sitting before him, he already knows how this will end. He raises a few fingers and tells Toki the exact amount of “big names” that will die, but doesn’t say who outright, because he won’t go back on Toki’s remark about him being nice.

“It definitely won’t be the villain though,” he says under his breath once Toki rewinds and restarts the scene again. “Even though he–”

“Shh!”

Everything starts back up again, this time through refreshed eyes. The air in the room is warm, and the rain still patters against the rooftop, but not nearly as distracting as before. Magnus returns to his cold meal, finishes it off before things go down. The look he wears warns Toki that Magnus is probably right about the amount of deaths about to unfold, and when people start dying, raises a single eyebrow. Someone gets shot, and he suddenly appears more confident. There it is! He’s getting cocky again. He’s lax enough where the lines on his forehead are barely visible, wrinkles hardly noticeable across his more handsome, prominent features. The edited reels surprises the crowd, and Toki can only think about the devilish grin, the overabundance of confidence riddled across Magnus’ form, and Toki’s knows he is supposed to be watching the film and preparing himself for Magnus to mock him about being right, but _now_? 

The second the theater lights up in flames, and the Nazis and their sympathizers scream discover the exits were boarded and barred, entrapping them all to their horrible demise, Toki kisses Magnus, drops his hand on the man’s hip, gripping it possessively and conveying a charged message up the muscles, and sending a chill up both their backs. Frustration mounts, and Toki pushes Magnus down again, grips the top of his sweatpants and starts tugging them downwards, making soft pleas to get Magnus to help with the process. They strip the other down in their messy engagement, never quite unlocking from the other until Toki grabs his pajama bottoms and throws them on top of the coffee table, covering a bowl and earning a delighted screech of a sliding spoon.

Toki sits up, eyes on Magnus below, snickering and holding the younger man up by the waist. “Wants to fuck?” he excitedly asks, earning a dry chuckle from Magnus.

“Wasn’t that the plan?”

Toki nods. “Okays, but I needs to know if it ems alright?” he mutters, sounding a little unsure.

Magnus continues snickering. “For Christ sakes, Toki,” he says, rubbing his eyes. “Read the damn room. Have at it, man. Fuck me.”

Toki beams, bringing his head down to kiss Magnus one last time before jumping off him and the couch. “Be rights backs,” he says as he hurries into the bedroom. “Gots to gets a condom!”

He scrambles through a drawer, ripping a condom from the line and tucking it into his palm before hastily nabbing some lube resting just on top. He hears Magnus slip into the bathroom. Toki fumbles as he passes, returns to the living room, and watches impatiently as the Basterds negotiate with the villain. Magnus arrives a few minutes later, offering up a suggestive smirk as Toki gets on his knees, leans on top of the sofa’s frame, and welcomes him with excited eyes. When Magnus makes the turn, he grabs him, yanks him back into the furniture. They return to their chaotic entanglement, Toki touching Magnus’ face and assaulting every inch with his lips, and Magnus groping Toki’s butt, squeezing possessively and earning some delicious moans and whines into his ears.

“Moves your leg,” Toki implores as he tries to resituate themselves in their cramped space.

“Uh-huh.” Magnus drops his left, letting it hang off the sofa while Toki gets in-between. Magnus slides up, resting his top half against the sofa’s arm, and watches Toki rest his hands on his lower stomach, blue eyes set on the developing erection. Toki takes it from the base, thumb rolling over the shaft and earning a silent parting of the lips from Magnus as he continues to drag his hand up. A few pumps are all it takes to bring Magnus to life, firm and hot and leaving Toki’s mouth a little watery once he lifts a hand and sees the bulbous head glistening up at him. He is already positioned right, but resolves to draw back, lowering and awarding Magnus with his mouth slurping up the head of his cock. Magnus makes a delightful noise, and his hand rubs the back of Toki’s head as he bobs and coats the glans with his wet tongue. Magnus wheezes out his name, and his hips shake when Toki dares to lower his head further, jaw relaxing and his lips sucking the shaft until it starts to throb.

When he tastes something salty, Toki lifts his head, wiping his lips and feeling lust and heat release from his shoulders, neck and face. He catches Magnus eyeing him, face partly covered with a hand.

Magnus winces through a strained grin. “Want me to suck you off?” he asks, already wetting his bottom lip.

Toki glances at his own, already at half-mast. All that teasing Magnus did before left quite the impression, and even though Magnus is great at giving head, Toki declines. “I ams already very sensitives,” he says.

“Sorry.”

“Nots a problem,” Toki says, voice going soft when Magnus glances to the side. “You ams very good at suckings.”

“I keep tellin you, it’s an art,” Magnus jokes as Toki grips him by the legs and repositions himself before yanking Magnus back, lifting his bottom half and resting it on top of his legs. A few quick motions, and Toki’s hard. Magnus continues to stare. “Sure you don’t want me on my stomach? Might be easier,” he suggests.

“Nah, it ems fine,” Toki answers, then bites the bottom corner of his mouth as he reaches for the condom and coconut oil. He tears through the package and yanks the condom out, pushes it on top of his erection and unfurls it down the shaft, all while Magnus watches in anticipation. Next is the oil. He dips two fingers into the solid concoction, feels it melt once it registers his heat. He pulls his fingers out, not minding when some of it drips and hits his stomach. Magnus’ eyes never leave him as he slides his fingers downward. With his other hand, Toki grips Magnus’ shaft again, gently massaging it as he locates and carefully enters the man, feeling the crushing heat and tremor of his body upon the sudden, but slippery intrusion.

Magnus’s eyes don’t tell him enough as he pushes deeper, feeling a bit of friction once the oil spreads out.

“Ams okay?” Toki asks.

“You’re fine, dude.” Magnus rests back into the furniture, eyes still focused as Toki continues to spread an even coating of the lubricant. “Just, uh, don’t take too long, alright?” he requests, but then makes a little jolt once Toki curls his fingers and drags them against the roof, hitting that cluster of sensitive nerves. Combined with the hand job, Magnus’s face and shoulders darken from the combined sensation. “Hey!”

“Sorries.” Toki removes his fingers, giving Magnus a cheeky grin when he stares down at his heaving form.

“What?”

“Nothins,” Toki replies. “I likes the face you makes when I does that to yous.”

“Save the torment for another day, Toki,” Magnus says with an exasperated sigh. He raises a hand up, but drops it midway. Toki appreciates that he doesn’t cover his reddening face. “I can’t right now, man. Pretty sure I won’t last long anyways.”

“Nots a problem.” Toki pounces Magnus one last time, crushing his lips against his, smiling because the bristles surrounding Magnus’ face tickle his chin, and because he feels how hot his face is compared to his own, and how needy Magnus gets once their close, because right as they kiss his hands slip over Toki, playing and prodding him like strings, like his own personal musical instrument. “S’fine,” Toki murmurs once he draws back.

They stare dreamingly at one another for a few seconds, eyes and faces still and reacting solely on the other’s energy. Toki loves it, loves when Magnus is under control, can vocalize his needs without him having to read his body, in between vague words, or just up and try to read his mind.

“You ams getting better,” he says.

“What?” Magnus asks, not understanding the remark.

“Betters. At being yourskelves,” Toki says, blushing and barely holding all the emotion behind his toothy grin. 

Magnus drags a hand across his forehead. “Save the gushiness for later.” He tries sounding resound, but comes off too appreciative, almost humble. The look he wears is so adorable, and if Toki had his phone he’d try and snap a photo.

“Lifts your legs agains,” Toki pleads once he’s back and tries to get Magnus’ legs around his waist. Magnus slides down as Toki moves forward. “Okays.”

With some careful precision, Toki repositions and guides himself in, feeling some resistance before Magnus relaxes, muscles give in and he starts to slip inside. Magnus flushes as Toki pushes forward, getting just deep enough, and watching Magnus react underneath. Toki blushes at the welcoming heat, the pressure, textures and eventual silkiness that swallows him whole. Magnus sighs underneath him, exhales sending a gentle contraction that makes Toki’s legs shudder in delight.

“Okays?” he asks, dipping his head down and casting a shadow over Magnus.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Magnus nods, words coming out carefree and free of concern.

Toki nods, feeling his back shiver as the heat crushes him, spreads and coats his entire body. He starts slow, sinking further and taking in that beautiful sight of Magnus bending under him, arms already reaching to grab and make do as Toki fills him up. Toki grabs the worn leather underneath, supporting himself as he begins to move, chest heaving with each thrust. Magnus exhales, makes low noises each time Toki returns, going as far as their position will allow, and doing everything in his power to graze the roof, hit that sensitive spot as often as he could.

“ _S-so_ warms,” Toki stutters, dropping low and forcing Magnus’ legs upward, sinking even deeper, pushing past that second barrier and watching Magnus’ lips curl at the intense sensation. His head dips back, chin up and open-mouthed. Toki holds Magnus down, feeling each jerk and shake and shiver and watching his Adam’s apple bob under every restrained grunt or moan. He changes rhythm, just because he wants Magnus to grab him, and he does, lurching forward and not holding a sharp hiss as Toki pegs him deep, hitting the right spot and causing Magnus to jerk and his hips to rapidly shake. 

“Fuck, man.” Magnus groans, and Toki gets himself as close as he can, rests his weight on his elbows, and has Magnus cling to him, holding on for dear life as he thrusts, sinking into that hot, molten pit and listening to Magnus heave airy complaints. He drops his head, stares at Magnus’ rolling chest, the thin line of his scar, and he hits him again in that spot, feels muscles quiver and contracts around him with so much pressure that Toki stifles a weak cry.

“Relax,” Toki warns. “You ams so tights. Gonna makes me come before yous.”

Magnus looks up at him like he’s the problem. “You’re driving me insane.”

“You likes it, though,” Toki says, and sinks all the way, loving every inch of it, and adoring the accompanying sighs from Magnus. His legs shudder again, and Toki feels those muscles around him quiver.

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last.” Magnus drags a hand down to cover his eyes.

Toki stops to move it away, to look Magnus in the eyes and take in that look of desperation, and commit it to memory.

“Relax,” Toki quietly commands, then picks up a little speed. It’s enough where Toki feels that inner throb start to extend outward, filling his cock with a heat almost comparable to Magnus, but alerting him that he’s close to finishing. He glances down at Magnus, eyes lidded as he concentrates on his own impending orgasm, with legs tightly clenching around Toki, and free hand gripping the blanket underneath each time Toki sinks into him.

“ _Oh_.” Magnus transfers all his weight from his body, across his arm and unto Toki in the form of an elongated shiver. It strums down Toki’s spine, sending a hot throb across his abdomen. Pressure builds at the head, and suddenly each contraction becomes a little too intense.

“Relax,” Toki says again, but is subdued by Magnus crushing him, holding on to him, making him sink even further and get buried in the building pressure.

“Fuck, _Toki_ ,” His name sounds so far away. Magnus is another world when he says it, and when he opens his eyes upon sudden realization, body lifting and muscles snapping into place, Toki pushes him back down, crushes his weight on top of him, pushes deep inside of him and listens again to his name being whimpered in that lost frenzy. He shuts his eyes, still thrusting, feeling each intense shiver taking place around him, pulling him impossibly deep, to a heat so unfathomable Toki’s almost convinced it’s Magnus’ heart. He opens his eyes right as Magnus finishes all over his stomach. He brings his shaking hands over his face and forehead, mouth still open and taking in short breaths.

Magnus’ legs sink around him. Toki leans forward, pushing past the arms and bringing them to Magnus’ sides so he can rest a kiss on top of his forehead. “Goings to finish. I promise I wonts be roughs,” he says, the drag under his lips alerting him Magnus understands.

Toki pulls back so he’s upright, resting on his legs. He stretches, then takes Magnus by each leg, pulling them up, Magnus squirming from the change, twitching and sending Toki closer to the edge. He starts thrusting, pace faster than before, though not nearly as intrusive. It still has an effect on both, and although Magnus is done, he clenches the fabric, legs twitching and brows furrowing each time Toki rubs him the right way. Toki rests his face against a leg, feeling the cool of the skin against his own, and shuts his eyes right as Magnus comments about his dick feeling so good, and why does it have to feel so good when he’s so done with it all?

Magnus’s legs threaten to kick. Toki holds both down, and Magnus groans into an arm that Toki has to order away, orders again because Magnus doesn’t hear him under wet smacks and moans and increasing swears. Once it’s out of the way Toki focuses on Magnus lips, its changing form, and the dwindling constitution in his eyes. His muscles lax, and Toki takes advantage of it, pushing deep and feeling a distinct shiver down his shaft.

Toki falls forward, hand keeping him up as his hips jerk rapidly into Magnus. A hand touches his face and he brings it up right as he’s hit with that sensational blast, that wave of pure ecstasy that’s so intense, fills Toki’s vision with lights as he stares at Magnus below.

As soon as it’s over, Toki slides down, uncaring of the sticky, wet mess piled between them, and falls right back on top of Magnus. He exhales, hiding his face in Magnus’ chest as his cheeks prickle, the feeling returns to his shaky legs, and the fluttery sensations keeping his brain afloat begins to decrease. He remains there, quiet, staying adrift in the afterglow until Magnus starts rubbing his head, warning him his leg is about to cramp. 

Toki looks up, round eyes set on Magnus. “What’s we gonna do nows?” he says into the man’s chest.

Magnus adjusts his leg. “I don’t know, but the day is still young, right?”

His smile fills Toki’s stomach with butterflies, and he nudges forward, bringing his arms up so he can rest his chin on top of them. “Yeps,” he says, closing his eyes when Magnus rolls his hand over his head and down his back. 

“Obviously, a shower is in order,” Magnus remarks. “But then, once it's done, I can show you why the films you watch today are absolute garbage and retain no actual meaning.”

“Sounds goods,” Toki responds, then lifts and unsticks himself from Magnus. He pulls out, careful not to rush or cause any discomfort, and once he’s free, has Magnus bring himself up to meet him. Magnus guides him into a kiss, cradles Toki’s jaw while everything else around them goes still. The rain hits the roof, rolling downpour heavily upon the land, and the windows shudder at the angry gusts of winds hitting them with wet strikes. The heater hums loudly, making the already stuffy room all the stuffier, but Toki doesn’t think about any of that as Magnus pulls away.

“Thanks,” he mutters, struggling but keeping his eyes up long enough for Toki to giggle, jump up and take Magnus up with him. There’s some shared laughter, a few hushed words, and Toki telling Magnus to grab their bottoms so they have something to put on later. They leave, one trailing after the other, making nasty remarks and jokes, hand smacking Toki’s rear when he’s not looking, and Toki trying and failing to get back. The blanket slides off the sofa, and the television screen, after remaining stagnant for so long, flickers to rest.

* * *

After a nice shower, heavy petting and mutual drying, Magnus gives Toki the option to pick what he calls “three underrated classics,” and cracks a dastardly grin when Toki notices the X-rating on the DVD cover of _Caligula_. Magnus tells him of an old drinking game he used to play with the film, and Toki warns him how much better he can handle his alcohol, even goes as far to bring up age and weight, and doesn’t fight back when Magnus approaches, tossing empty threats before taking up on the younger man’s offer.

“Alright, loser has to buy the winner dinner,” Magnus says, lifting two bottles from the fridge.

“Nah, losers will buys the winners overpriced bath-bombs and candies,” Toki corrects, earning a slight slush as Magnus pops up the cap for the first bottle, then hands it to Toki.

“Rather presumptuous, aren’t we?” 

“You cans still wins,” Toki points out, taking the bottle and eyeing it with interest.

“And smell like a hot fudge sundae after a bath?” Magnus asks sarcastically, not minding the sparkle in Toki’s eye when he brings it up. “How delightful.”

“I thinks that ims a pretty goods thing.” Toki perks up just thinking about it. Magnus shakes it off, insisting that the loser should have to clean the bathroom, or pay for a meal, but Toki pushes the fact that it probably won’t rain tomorrow, and they still need to visit that shop and all the other ones Magnus promised they’d visit, and he folds.

Before the movie starts Magnus is unloading background information, details about the cast and director that Toki finds so amusing. The movie starts to play and Toki falls on top of Magnus’ legs, making faces and poking fun at Magnus, and only stopping once Magnus has a hand on him, touching him and reminding Toki he’s still there. The sound of rain has long since passed, and all that’s left is the grey sky hanging above them. Toki finishes his first drink before Magnus, and by the second, remembers how little Magnus’ taste in film differs from Murderface’s, but unlike the latter, tries to hide behind a veil of film fanaticism.

There’s a joke. A comment regarding the authenticity of some of the more questionable scenes. Magnus is quick to defend himself. Toki snickers at the strange settings, the odd prosthetics and nudity, a sex scene, barely keeps hold from making lewd remarks, mean jokes aimed at Magnus’ questionable taste. By the second, Toki starts asking questions that Magnus is only too quick to answer, defend. By the end of the third bottle, they’re going at one another.

“Oh, wowee. This ams bad,” Toki slurs and points his half-empty bottle of beer at the screen. “This ams just olds torture porns with bad effects and actins.”

Magnus rudely shoves him, spilling some from his bottle as Toki falls on his side, arms dangling above as he whines. “What the hell do you know?” Magnus loudly proclaims as Toki wobbles up, sets his drink on the table and makes a face at him. Magnus sneers back. “You think alternate universe revenge films with chapter titles shoved in makes for good art!”

“It ams better than a giants lawn mowers what slicing fakes heads open,” Toki says, then laughs at the ridiculous violence unfolding before them. Toki’s never been a fan of extreme gore, but he cannot entertain the idea that Romans ever possessed a massive red wall designed for decapitation. “And that guy what’s playing Caligoola ams really hammy!”

Magnus nearly spits up his bottle. “Oh, you did not just speak ill of McDowell,” he says, and he’s about to put his bottle down when Toki covers his mouth and points at the screen, as said actor eats up the scene, shaking his head and making Magnus’ face go red. He shoves Toki again, only to have the younger man fight back, grab his offending hand, and drag him down with him.

They fall hard with a thud, and in their scuffle, Toki earns a nuggy, a few mean words, followed by a kiss behind his ear.

Magnus pulls himself up, hovers above Toki, with hair cascading around and dimming the surrounding light.

Clouds roll in the distance, heading southward, towards the ocean.

The storm passes.


End file.
